Please, read this small warning before continuing.

A/N: ok, this is hurt/comfort mainly, so if you don't like sad things... well, you have been warned.

Not counting this author's note, this piece is 800 words long (ain't that interesting? 800 like the years of Ninja history) and it lets you, the reader, open to imagine what has happened and what will happen. I'm not sure if I will go on, it all depends on my mood and if I get my inspiration out from under the couch again, but I finally got this thing out of my head before it made things impossible for me.

As usual, my works have not been beta-readed, only controlled a couple of times by me, so errors are bound to appear here and there. Sorry for that (man... my writing skills feels so rusty...).

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The Ties That Binds

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"Someone, please..!"

"No-no-no..."

"Is... he going to be alright?"

"He's the Ninja... he can't..."

"He's still alive! Ninja, can you hear me?"

"Come on, Ninja! Don't give up!"

"Ninja!"

As the quiet darkness was pierced by the cacophony of voices coming from everywhere around him, Randy became aware of how much pain he was in. It was as if a bus-sized lawnmower had trampled all over him several times, breaking bones and causing painful lacerations on his body, then parked itself on top of his chest, making it extremely hard to breathe.

It was a horrible feeling that he wished on no one, not even the Sorcerer, the same man that had caused him all this pain.

With a soft groan, Randy forced his eyes to open just enough to see what was going around him. Everything was blurred and slightly darkened, but he could still make out the shapes of all the people surrounding him like some sort of giant and colorful crown. He found it strangely beautiful, yet sad at the same time because all those people were crying.

He wondered if Howard was with them, if he was still hiding somewhere or if he was blaming the Nomicon for putting his best friend through such a fight. Randy had no idea where the ancient book was at the moment, probably lost somewhere during the intense battle against the Sorcerer, but as he thought about it, the need to know of its fate became pressing.

"No...micon..."

It was more of a whispered gurgle than anything else, but apparently it was enough to shush everyone into silence to listen to the single word he had uttered with his fading strength.

"Nomicon..."

There was a moment of pause, then someone in the crowd started to call out the name for him as loudly as they could. A couple of calls later and a second person joined in, then a third and a fourth until several dozen of voices filled the air.

Their calls were drowned only by a blaring siren and the screech of tires, but they didn't stop. They continued to call the name he had whispered, believing that it was a person and that it would come rushing to them if only they were loud enough. Randy would have chuckled in amusement if he wasn't so tired and so cold.

He didn't know when his eyes started to close, only that at one point someone was calling him again and again, trying to keep him awake.

When he finally thought that he was going to succumb to the numbing darkness, someone placed a hand on his chest. It was large, warm and it possessed some kind of buzzing energy to it that he could not describe with words. All he knew was that it was creating some weird resonance in his whole body, casting the cold numbness away and reawakening him to the pain once again.

Randy let out a strangled scream and forced his eyes open to look at who was causing him such torture when all he wanted was to rest, to find a little peace after a harsh battle. It actually took him a few seconds to see past the blurriness enough to recognize the ancient samurai mask staring down at him.

He had no idea how the Nomicon had gained a corporeal form other than that of the book, nor he cared. All that mattered to him was that it was there with him.

"You did well, Ninja," the voice was just as Randy remembered it. Powerful. Awe-inspiring. Yet with that tone of caring in it that belonged to a wise teacher and, Randy would never admit it to anyone, a caring father that he never had. "You can rest now."

The Nomicon slightly bowed and it was all Randy needed to know that the ancient spirit was proud of him, that he had done good despite screwing up in the last bit and getting himself hurt so badly.

"Thanks..." it was all that Randy could say.

A single word to express his gratitude for everything the Nomicon had done for him. For all the lessons, for its patience when he messed up, for forgiving him every time and for just being there. Randy would always be grateful, no matter if he could never really express it into words.

The world started to fade and Randy could not keep his eyes open anymore. They were just too heavy and he was way too tired to struggle with them. Not to mention that when the Nomicon hoisted him up into its large arms, it felt as if he was laying in his own bed.

Warm, comfortable and pain-free.

Randy would never have it any other way.